Stargate Fic Recommendations

Rec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Category: Angst, DADT, first time, post-atlantis, humor
Warning: Slash
Author on LJ: liketheriverrun
Author's Website: none
Link: Slither

Why This Must Be Read:

This story explores a post-Atlantis John and Rodney who've left behind the city they loved for different reasons except, not really. Both stubborn men, their struggle to reconnect (and resist that reconnection) on Earth is a bumpy ride recounted from both John and Rodney's POV. Along the way, we learn how it all happened and, in the end, whether the two of them can reach consensus on the future. The addition of a cheeky female OC adds a lovely touch of humor in-between the arguments under the hot Mexican sun.


Excerpt:

When I stopped to ask for directions to Dr. Rodney McKay’s house in the local mercado, the man behind the counter had frowned in confusion. For a second I was afraid he didn’t understand the broken Texicano that I was pulling from the portion of my brain that stored all things related to my teen years. Or maybe Zelenka hadn’t given me the right address and I was in the wrong town altogether, or worse yet maybe Rodney had just flat-out lied about where he was. But when he asked in amazement if I meant the científico de asqueroso… the asshole scientist… I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. Rodney knew how to make an impression wherever he went, no doubt about it.

Mexico wouldn’t have been my first thought about where McKay would go into his self-imposed semi-retirement: too many uneducated people, too many kids, too many microbes, too many UV rays, and, as he always said, a freakish obsession with citrus in their beer. But then again, the small beach village in the state of Jalisco did have its advantages. It was reclusive enough that the SGC would have to send the Daedalus to beam your ass out whenever they needed you, it was the kind of place you could live like a king on your savings for the next forty years, and it was by the ocean.

I don’t think anyone that has done a stint on Atlantis could live anywhere that wasn’t by the water, not unless they had hated their time there. And Rodney had loved Atlantis, loved her so much he had given her up so that she could have what he thought she needed most… me.

But after four months I had come to the conclusion that I really didn’t give a shit about what Atlantis might need. That we had spent the past four years sacrificing everything for her, living in fear for her, and that fear had little to do with Wraith or alien viruses or hostile natives or the thousand and one other things we faced on a daily basis. That keeping things in check had brought us to the same end, so why the fuck had we bothered in the first place? That as much as the city meant to me, something else… someone else meant more. A whole hell of a lot more. So much more that I now found myself squinting at the hand-drawn map the man at the market had given me to find the house of the most arrogant bastard that had ever drawn breath. And for good reason: I, for one, couldn’t imagine life without him.

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